Oedipus Complex
by Canadino
Summary: If Freud said that children could be attracted to their parents, can this logic apply to nations as well? ..Of course! France/Canada, US/UK, Spain/SItaly. T for attempted smut


**Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

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**Minimal fluff 09!**

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Oedipus Complex

_Case 1: France/Canada_

He had been telling Kumajiro who he was (not to mention _the world_) so many times that it was only natural, only out of habit, did he respond to France in the way he did. "_Bonjour_, _mon cheri_, Canada!" the long haired nation had greeted loudly when he burst into his house out of the blue.

"I'm Canada." Canada blinked, realizing that he had been actually addressed as such but before he could cover up his mistake, France had noticed it and frowned. "I called you that."

"Sorry." Hugging Kumajiro tightly to hide his embarrassment, Canada accidentally attempted to choke the poor bear.

"Goddammit, stranger, don't kill me just 'cause France is here!" Kumajiro threw Canada off and trotted away grumpily. "I don't even know why I live with that man. Who is he anyway?" it muttered to itself.

France watched this passively and stole into Canada's personal space as soon as the polar bear was no where to be seen. "Canada…_Canada_…" It was worth it just to whisper, to practically breathe the little country's name and watch his old territory shiver. Backing the blonde against a wall, France let his hands wander. "Did you think I would call you America? _Amerique_?" His breath was warm against Canada's ear as France ground their hips together.

"Ev…everyone does that," Canada murmured, his voice catching suddenly. France had undone the buttons on his shirt during this short exchange. "Ah…France…stop…"

"Would I mistake you for anyone else, hmm? Would a parent mistake its own child?" Letting out a warm breath, fogging up Canada's glasses, France laced a trail of butterfly kisses up Canada's neck, feeling skittish excitement in his hands. "You, Canada, are nothing like America. Because unlike America, you don't belong to England."

"We're independent na--" Canada began, in defense of himself and his brother, but France cut his argument short with a deal-sealing kiss. Canada's belt was already loose around his waist but his pants were still _technically _on and besides, France had shoved his thigh in-between his legs and rubbing against him in an ungodly way that was making it rather hard to talk. "Ah…you're…you're desperate, aren't you?" Canada gasped out, before closing his mouth to prevent a moan from escaping his throat. France chuckled.

"I got jilted this morning," he admitted, enjoying the flushed color of Canada's cheeks.

"So…so…you come to _me_," Canada countered, biting his lip before he could make any other unnecessary sounds. It was becoming difficult to stand and the heat, oh the heat was just unbearable and he had already thrown his arms around France's neck just to keep upright. His back was already against the wall and yet France was still pushing him, pushing him…

"Austria said something to me the other day," France interrupted, changing the topic completely, almost oblivious to Canada's ragged breaths. "He told me about this guy he knew, Freud. Said sex drove everything. You think it's true?"

"F-France…I can't st-stand…I'll…"

France grinned. "Why didn't you just say so? I believe the bedroom's _this_ way," he said, proving an uncanny knowledge of Canada's house before whisking him away. Kumajiro watched from the shadows, shaking his head. This always happened when France came around. The guy that was always around would disappear into a room with him and then the house would just become too loud for his tastes. Shaking his head and totting off, he decided he take a walk and come back around dinner. France probably would have made some food by then.

_Case 2 – America/Great Britain_

England had heard of rebellious, pubescent teenagers, but hadn't America _long_ passed that point?

"I would just like to make it clear that I am _not_ eating that crap you call food. You can't make me and besides, it would probably be unconstitutional to consume it anyway."

"I was never forcing you to," England muttered, rubbing his temples. He was getting a lot of headaches with these exchanges with America as of late. What happened to the adorable little boy of centuries past, who totted around a cute little bunny and would rub his head for him when troubled times came?

"Damn right you can't. You're not my mother," America said, crossing his arms and turning away indignantly.

"I wouldn't want to be your uncle," England snapped back. "What did you come around for? To complain more about the world?"

"Actually, I wanted to strengthen our alliance…"

"Again?" England temporarily forgot about the throbbing of his temples and slammed his hand against the table, unsettling the burnt things on the plate in front of them. "This always happens. Remember? You just love to do this. You have no justification to do things yet you do them anyway and then you come crawling back asking for help."

"You overtaxed me, so it's your fault. I might not have left you if you would cut it out."

England almost smacked him. "_My_ fault? Who almost got slaughtered by France? And your own native people? If I didn't help you out, you'd have gotten killed out there! And then you _dare_ to tell me that I'm taxing you for fun after my army, my _people_ have to recover after busting our sorry asses to protect your enormous ego? Don't even talk about this, America. Don't even try it."

"I didn't ask you to. And besides, parents are supposed to protect their kids."

England smirked, leaning forward challengingly. "I thought you said I wasn't your mother or father, America. Now are you taking it back? As I thought, you cheap imitation of a hero."

America twitched. "Now don't go insulting me, England. I don't want to be here either, groveling for your help. But my boss said it was important, it was 'imperative' that we become best friends again. Okay? Jeez."

"Don't 'jeez' me, America. I don't need your sass." England sat back on the sofa, crossing his arms. "You've got to ask better than that, America. Haven't I taught you any manners?"

"I've compromised," America said shortly, before staring at the island nation. Squirming uncomfortably, England shifted positions. "Would you stop staring, you git?"

"I'm glad you're not my mother, or my father, or my sister, or my brother," America replied, reaching forward to pull England across the coffee table, an easy feat since he was strong as hell and the scones were inedible anyway. Meeting their lips together in a crash of forces, America grinned, spotting the hidden lust in the green eyes glaring up at him, which he knew saw the same kind of feeling in his own blue ones. "Because then I could do that without feeling those gross incestual vibes." Before England could argue, America already was taking off his jacket and pulling out a tube of lube. "And I can undress you with my eyes because that would just make you a _cougar_."

England rolled his eyes, fumbling with his belt. "Seriously, with that attitude, I wouldn't be surprised if you turned out to be a reincarnation of Freud."

"Who?"

"Never mind!"

_Case 3 – Spain/South Italy_

Romano had tumbled into bed with Spain many times before. Things were different this time around; as before, he was usually beating (or attempting to, at least) the crap out of the laughing idiot. Before, Spain had never tried to take off his clothes with his teeth. Before, he never had to say 'remember' and 'to use' and 'a condom' in the same sentence, especially when they were on the bed together. Before, Spain never teased him about worrying about being pregnant and he had never had to pull Spain down for a kiss to shut him up about being pregnant.

Everything that had led up to this, however, had been normal, everyday routine. Romano had come over to mooch breakfast, Spain was screwing around…and somehow, someway, they ended up both much more turned on than they had expected and were now getting tangled in Spain's sheets like these activities were normal before noon.

"You…sick…parent, dammit," Romano hissed in-between groans. "Doing this to your own _child_."

"We're not related by blood," Spain replied cheerfully, bending down to kiss Romano on the forehead.

"That makes it a whole lot better."

"Yes. That way, there won't be any genetic similarities."

"I thought we established that I couldn't get pregnant, dammit!" Romano shoved a hand in Spain's face. "Wait! I don't want your spawn!"

"Relax, you can't get pregnant, Romano. You're so cute." Nuzzling the squirming nation beneath him, Spain dodged an attack in his direction. "You wouldn't want my children?"

"No!" Romano dug his fingers in Spain's shoulders. "Why are we even talking about this _now_, dammit?"

"Ah, you brought it up."

"What if we're _related_…" Romano shook his head. "It's just Freudian, that's all."

"We're not related in any way. I was only supposed to be your caretaker because Austria couldn't handle you." Spain ran his fingers through Romano's damp hair. "So we're two unrelated strangers messing around, alright?"

"Ag! That means you were a pedophile for all that attention you gave me when I was younger!"

"Ah, I guess I do come off as a bit obsessed~"

"No! That's not a good thing! Ah, damn you Spain…"

Owari

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Note: The Oedipus complex…Freud…ahahahaha…I honestly have no idea why it came to this. But this is about as sexual as I can get without nosebleeding across the monitor. But think about it: there are basically parent/child pairings in Hetalia. So…does the Oedipus complex, a sexual attraction to a parent (yes, I know it's usually toward the parent of the opposite gender, but that doesn't apply to Hetalia), pertain to the nations? Hmm. Oh and basically because I wanted to write some France/Canada. Now I'm a bit iffy about Spain/Romano though, when you think about it…

Of Seamen and Landlubbers will be updated soon…review…


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